Lyrics Pac-Man - YSN Flow

Pac-Man

Bro told me fuck em up been goin up since he said it
I can’t entertain her texts but I read it
Yea
Bro told me fuck em up been going up since he said it
I can’t entertain her texts but I read it
Pockets itching for that money and fetish
Pockets itching for that money and fetish
In that field bro throw a play imma catch it
Made some money that shit made me some leverage
Now they on me trying to send me a message
Left all the snakes back with the leeches and peasants
Hit the gas in the coupe with my main bitch
Figures change but I swear I ain’t change shit
Drop the top I pop my shit when it’s brainless
Plastic glocky but my bro keep a stainless
Rap nigga know I see him he chainless
I watch my back cause these niggas be dangerous
Knife on the glock I pull up tryna blade shit
I’m on my shit and we not on the same shit
Still that lil nigga from back then
I just got packs in and I been eating like Pac-Man
He tried to run, blow his back bro got a mac 10
We lay him down like a mattress
Took out the drama brought racks in
Look at my fashion I’m rocking Dolce Gabbana
They know we never had shit I ain’t gon cap shit
Slept on the floor with my momma
LA I ball like a Laker, ain’t tryna miss when I shoot so my gun got a laser
I probably fuck before I date her, she know I’m Flow and I came in this bitch
with some paper
F.N on my hip for a hater, jumped in that water with snakes, and piranhas,
and gators
They probably made us, he gave his all to a bitch that be fucking my brothers
please save him
Bro told me fuck em up been going up since he said it
I can’t entertain her texts but I read it
Pockets itching for that money and fetish
Pockets itching for that money and fetish
In that field bro throw a play imma catch it
Made some money that shit made me some leverage
Now they on me trying to send me a message
Left all the snakes back with the leeches and peasants
In my feelings go and lock in the booth
Don’t want a lot she know I just want the truth
When you trying to win you destined to lose
Just keep on trying till you get you some blues
Know these niggas couldn’t trot in my shoes
I act like I’m cool but really I’m through
Fed up with all these niggas pocket watching and these niggas who watching my
moves
I ain’t gon fake I been in my bag and they know that
And we the youngest niggas leaving niggas stretched out like a door mat
Yea yea they hate that I’m poppin my shit
Yea yea on granny yea yea
I keep on pouring up 4s my bro tryna tax for the lows, we still get em gone
I bring my stick on the road just when they think I’m alone, I up it and blow
I know some shit they don’t know but if I speak on the shit that a mean that I
told
Bro put a beam on the pole he up this bitch red dot landing straight on your
nose
Bro told me fuck em up been going up since he said it
I can’t entertain her texts but I read it
Pockets itching for that money and fetish
Pockets itching for that money and fetish
In that field bro throw a play imma catch it
Made some money that shit made me some leverage
Now they on me trying to send me a message
Left all the snakes back with the leeches and peasants